


Perfecto

by TheDuchessApproves



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Incest, fluffy incest, incesty fluff, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:46:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6904663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDuchessApproves/pseuds/TheDuchessApproves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The twins' parents are going to be gone for a whole weekend. To kick off a weekend with the house to themselves, Mabel wants to cook Dipper a dinner that is just perfecto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfecto

It was already after nine o’clock when the family car finally pulled out of the driveway, with their parents inside. Dipper let out a sigh of relief, letting his shoulders sag as he reached for Mabel’s hand. His fingers closed around thin air, “Mabes?” he called softly, turning away from the front window to look for her.

“In here, bro-bro,” she chirped from the direction of the kitchen.

When Dipper reached the door to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. Mabel had already tied on her pink and green watermelon apron over her clothes, had her brown curls piled on top of her head, and was getting down to the business of cooking. He leaned against the doorframe, “Wait, you’re still gonna cook? Mabes, it’s late.”

“Pfffft, late shmate,” she said, flippantly, “‘Course I’m still cooking!”

“Mabel, it’s cool.” Dipper insisted, “Ya don’t have to. We can just order a pizza.”

Mabel stopped her preparations, leaning her hands on the counter beside the ingredients she’d been setting out, “Pizza? The nerve!” she huffed jokingly, but he thought he heard a hint of real offense.

“Dude, you love pizza.” Dipper crossed his arms.

“No, duh! Of course, I love pizza! Only jerkfaces with janked-up tongues don’t like pizza!” Dipper smiled and nodded, waiting for the ‘but’, “Buuuut you know I’ve been planning this date jazz since Mom and Dad mentioned their trip! This shiz is gonna be  _ perfecto _ !”

Dipper smiled at her insistence, the stubborn set of her jaw which only made her cuter. He closed the short distance between them and put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to him, “Nothing has to be ‘perfecto’, Mabes, you know you don’t need to go overboard with this dinner thing.”

“I know I don’t  _ have  _ to,” she said, standing on tiptoes to playfully booping her nose to his, “But I  _ want _ to!”

“You? Wanting to go overboard?” he scoffed sarcastically, “I don’t believe it!”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, brotato,” she said, stepping away from him to grab the actual potatoes she’d placed on the counter, “You’ll be eating your words.”

“Mmm,” Dipper rubbed his stomach with a smirk, “You didn’t tell me  _ words  _ were what you had planned. You know they’re my favorite.”

Mabel rolled her eyes as she rinsed the potatoes at the sink, “Hilarious, Dip, you’re a national treasure.” he grinned back at her. She raised her eyebrows and jerked her head at the door, “Run along now, Mommy’s making dinner.”

Dinner pulled a face as he made to leave the kitchen, “ _ Gross _ , pleeease, never refer to yourself as Mommy ever again.”

His sister shrugged, “Interesting place to draw the line, brutha, just sayin’.”

 

It was all well and good that Mabel wanted to make a fancy dinner. And Dipper knew what she’d said was true, she  _ had _ been planning for ages. Their parents rarely went out of town, but they would be gone for the entire weekend for a college reunion with a bunch of their old buddies. It had been a couple months since Mabel and Dipper’s first kiss had thrown them for a loop, each disbelieving and elated to find that the forbidden feelings they’d been having were mutual. But the joy of their shared love wasn’t always enough to keep the strain of keeping the secret from getting to them a little. They had one or two close calls, really only escaping being caught by their parents by the skin of their teeth. Dipper in particular had struggled with the fear of being found out, of being separated, an ever-growing litany in his head of everything that could go wrong. To her credit, Mabel wasn’t only handling her own misgivings, but calmly diffusing the occasional breakdown from her brother.

So when their parents told them about their trip, it had honestly felt like Christmas arrived early. A weekend to themselves, without any fear, was just what the doctor ordered. Dipper smiled at the memory of how his sister had thrown herself into planning, scrawling disorganized lists in pink pen which were really more like free-writes, and making collages of all the ways they could enjoy an entire weekend of playing house. They both had an obsessive streak, but their planning styles couldn’t have differed more. It was adorable to watch her in action, her own ideas occasionally eliciting a gasp or giggle from herself, and the occasional ‘OMG, bro, you just wait!’. 

_ Why shouldn’t she be excited? _ Dipper thought to himself again, putting aside the book he was trying to read,  _ It’s not like we ever get to go on dates or anything.  _ He’d loved the idea as much as her, counting down the weeks and the days until Mom and Dad would leave.  _ But they left way later than we expected and that was over an hour ago _ , he thought, glancing at his watch,  _ and we haven’t actually spent any of that time together. _ He could hear Mabel bustling around in the kitchen, singing snippets of show tunes and stirring and chopping, the fridge door opening and closing. His stomach grumbled angrily at the smells wafting into the living room, where he’d sat on the couch trying to pass the time.  _ Don’t get me wrong,  _ he insisted to himself,  _ it’s not like I don’t totally love and appreciate the idea of Mabel making me dinner. It’s super sweet and all. But I’d rather enjoy the privacy, like, together. _ His stomach grumbled louder, argumentatively,  _ Okay, and I’m fucking starving. _

Dipper sat up straighter on the couch and tried to listen more closely to the sounds in the kitchen, trying to tell how far along the cooking process was. He could hear the crisp  _ thunk _ of some vegetable getting chopped up and deduced that that was probably not a good sign.   _ Maybe I could just get a little taste? _ He considered, hand on his stomach, but thought better of it,  _ Nah, Mabel would probably feel like I was spoiling the surprise or something. Sorry, body, we’re gonna have to just tough it out this time. _ Dipper forced his eyes back to his book, willing himself to ignore the smell of food. He made it less than a page before he had to put the book down again when a particularly loud grumble interrupted him. He looked down at his stomach, wondering when it had gained sentience and a voice.  _ Okay,  _ he relented, standing up from the couch and making his way towards the kitchen,  _ you win. _

“Hey, Maaaabes?” he said as he was reaching the door, “How’s the feast comin’ alo--” his words died in his throat at he made it to the kitchen. A pot was bubbling thickly on the stove and the counter beside it was covered in all manner of utensils, foodstuffs, and food packaging. But his eyes had shot directly to Mabel. She was leaning against the counter opposite the stove, by the sink, with tears rolling down her face. He was upon her in a second, drawing her into his arms, anxiously asking, “Oh, god, Mabes, what’s wrong?” he took her hands in his, inspecting them for slices or burns, but she took them from him to wipe her eyes, “Are you okay?” Her only response was a pained ‘gah!’ as her fingers rubbed her eyes.

Dipper got a sinking, empty feeling all of a sudden that had nothing to do with his groaning stomach. _Oh no,_ his mind stuttered, tripping over all the reasons Mabel could be crying, _it’s about_ ** _us._** He took a cautious step back from her, not wanting to trigger a reaction any worse than this with unwanted physical contact, “Mabes, I’m so sorry.” he heard himself say.

His sister looked up at him, her eyes red and still streaming, her gaze questioning.  _ She’s right, oh god, there’s no way ‘sorry’ could ever be good enough _ . But he’d be damned if he didn’t try, “M-Mabes, god, I’m so sorry. I know that’s not worth much, but I am, I’m so sorry. I-I never meant for you to get hurt, but--ah fuck, god--how did I ever think this could make you happy?” He realized that suddenly his eyes were stinging, too, but he couldn’t stop the torrent of words, “Shit, I mean, I know this is really weird. I mean,  _ duh, obviously it’s weird _ , but...but, Mabes, you’re so  _ so _ wonderful and well, I mean, I’ve  _ always _ thought that! I mean, you’re my sister and my best friend and, and anyone would be so lucky-- _ so fucking lucky _ \-- to like even know you, much less, ya know,” the tears were falling from his own eyes now, “Be  _ with  _ you. And Mabel,” he covered his face, wondered for an instant when he had started pacing, “Mabel, I have felt…  _ so unbelievably lucky _ ! I mean, these past couple months… I-I don’t mind the sneaking or the worrying or the waiting, and I know it seems like I do. Like I let it get to me and, and stress out. But, you gotta believe me, I don’t  _ care _ about that stuff! I’ve just been so…” he gulped, trying in vain to keep his voice from breaking, “ _ So  _ happy to be  _ with _ you.” Dipper’s hands slid up from his wet face into his hair, not caring when he felt his hat fall off his head, as he forced out the next tear-choked words, “But-but I understand it being too much for you. I won’t try to change your mind, just please,  _ please _ try to forgive me. I-it’s been such a...an honor and, and a privilege and...so amazing and…” He wiped his face a bit impatiently, staring at Mabel’s pink-socked feet on the blurry linoleum floor, “I can go back to just being your brother, but I couldn’t-- _ I can’t _ \--stand losing you...”

For a moment, Dipper didn’t understand what he was feeling when Mabel’s arms wrapped around his stiff shoulders. She squeezed herself to him, and a he returned the hug, his mind racing to understand the gesture. His heart sank when he felt her quaking against him,  _ oh man, I made her cry more… _ but then he heard the snort. He froze. He knew that snort. That was not a crying, snotty-nosed, Sweater Town snort. That was a silent laughter snort.  _ Laughing? _ His jaw all but dropped,  _ She...she’s laughing at me? _

More abruptly that he meant to, he tore himself from Mabel’s arms. He could feel anger rising in him, feel the heat of blood rushing to his cheeks and ears.  _ I just poured out my heart to her...and she’s laughing? _ And she was laughing. Now that he had taken a few steps back and could look at her, there was no denying it. He wished she didn’t look so cute, pink-faced and silently giggling, but she did. That only made him angrier, “What the fuck, Mabel!?”

That surprised her and she tried to suppress the laugh, only the smallest giggles squeaking out, “Dip, no, don’t be mad--”

“Don’t be mad!?” He repeated, incredulously, watching her fail to stop laughing, “What is so  _ funny _ ?”

“Bro-bro,  _ chillax _ ,” she said, putting out her hands as if approaching a feral animal.  _ How the hell am I supposed to chillax??  _ Dipper wondered, “I mean, like...I’m glad you’ve given this a lot of thought and all. I mean, I knew you were ‘cause you’re always holed up in that big ole brain o’ yours,” she tapped her temple as she said that, “But I’m not getting cold feet about our whole dealski. It was the onions.”

“...Onions?” Dipper mimicked, uncomprehending.

“Yah, Dipdip,  _ onions. _ ” she smiled, “Y’know the ones, the bulb-thingies under stinky grass? Make food taste delicious, make you  _ cry  _ when you cut them?” As she said that, she gestured to the counter by the stove.

Dipper peeked over his shoulder, dreading the cutting board covered in chopped onions that he knew would greet him. When it did, all he could do was groan. He hadn’t thought his face could get any hotter, but it did and he buried it in his hands, “Guuuuh... _ onions _ ?” Mabel giggled, and he felt a stab of embarrassment, “Why didn’t you stop me when I started blubbering like an idiot?”

“Aw, Dip,” she touched his shoulder, “Don’t be embarrassed. It was cute!”

“Cute!?” He could feel a swell of anger in his chest again, “No, it wasn’t  _ cute _ ! I was scared, Mabes, dammit, I-I thought…” his anger wilted as fast as it had come, “I thought I was losing you.”

Mabel clicked her tongue and enclosed him in another embrace, pulling his head down to rest on her chest, “Silly bro-bro,” she tutted softly, “You’re never gonna  _ lose _ me. I’m not car keys or something.”

“You know what I mean,” he grumbled against her, miffed.

“Yeah, but you’re not gonna ‘lose’ me that way either, doofus,” she petted his hair, “Even if we don’t… stick with the dating sibs thingy, we’re always gonna have the twins thingy,” she lifted his face and smiled at him, “And you’re always gonna have the Mabel thingy.” 

Dipper couldn’t help but smile back as he kissed her. He made sure to make the most of the kiss, thinking about how only a few minutes prior he’d been sure he would never get to kiss her again. She giggled against his lips at his intensity, and the sound lifted some of the residual weight from his chest. He pulled her close, savoring the taste of her sweet lip balm, the familiar smell of her, the strawberry shampoo and the vanilla lotion and the smoke.

Wait… smoke?

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss.  _ Yeah, it definitely smells like smoke.  _ It only took a moment to find the source; their dinner was burned past recognition, charred and smoking at the bottom of the pan. Mabel made a disappointed whine as Dipper shut off the burner and moved the pot away from the heat. His stomach took that moment to grumble pointedly, reminding him of the mission that had brought him into the kitchen in the first place. Mabel heard it and gave him a guilty smile, “Welp, we could eat some onions?”

“Mabes,” Dipper said with a somewhat exasperated smile, “Now will you admit that we should just order a pizza?”

She pouted a little, eyes returning to the pot of inedible soot, still smoking, “Aww… but dinner was supposed to be perfecto…”

Dipper pulled her into another hug, “The food doesn’t matter, Mabel. We’ve got the rest of the weekend, just the two of us. And just the two of us is  _ always  _ perfecto.”

“Pfft,” she said, swatting him away as he leaned in for a kiss, but smiling again, “You’re such a dork.”

“I know,” he said, kissing her forehead and then her cheek on the way to her lips, “But I’m your dork.” he kissed her, quickly, “And I want pizza.” she rolled her eyes but made no move to stop him when he reached for the phone.


End file.
